POESIS from Gerald Manley Hopkins

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell:
the soilIs bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs --
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Gerald Manley Hopkins

nyaarrgghh lines from Maurice Blanchot

* Meanwhile, between them and us, there is a relation of fraternity, close to one another to the point of living only when exposed to dying for one another, as in a reciprocal suicide in which one would prolong his life so that the other dies in it more gently, that we are called upon to maintain ourselves up until the end.

* Fraternity: we love them, we can do nothing for them, if not help them to reach the threshold.
The threshold, what indiscretion and weight there would be in speaking of it as if it were death. In a certain way, and forever, we have known that death was only a metaphor to help us crudely represent the idea of a limit to ourselves, while the limit excludes any representation, any "idea" of the limit.

* "Do we really want to occupy ourselves with them?" -- "They have already fallen into our worklessness." -- "We watch over them." -- "But it is they who keep watch." -- "We observe them, we guard them."

* "They do not love us, knowing nothing about us." -- 'That is their way of loving us, they are at our side."

* "We live for those who know nothing about us," -- "Ah, they also live for us, and even more so since they don't know it." -- "But what do they have to do with our life?"
There was something disturbing about feeling them thus exposed and as if given up by the care which we supposed they took to avoid us,
Impenetrable, as if they concealed themselves by their transparency.